Page 107 of Ripped & Shipped
Yep. I am one busy social media influencer.
“What was your favorite part?”
“You sound like my kindergarten teacher after spring break.”
“Yeah? Did you have Mrs. Goodwin?”
“Yep.”
“I had her too,” he says. “I loved the way she read to us—always using all the different voices for each character.”
“Me too,” I say.
Well now. Look at us, talking all civilized and avoiding touching the subject of the big kissy elephant in the truck.
“So?”
“So, what?”
“What was your favorite part of the weekend?”
That hot as tamales kiss. And it was my favorite part of my week, month, year, and possibly life … But I’m not telling the soldier that. Second fave: dancing. Being held while we swayed on the dance floor. Let’s go with the third favorite thing.
“Feeding the giraffes.”
“Yeah. That was pretty cool.”
“What was your favorite part of the weekend?”
No. No. No. Why? I need a delete button. Rewind. Reverse. I didn’t just ask him that! He’s going to say it. I can see the smirk forming on his smug face. Don’t say it, Chris. Don’t.
“Oh, I think you know what my favorite part of the weekend was, Boots.”
“Bagels?”
“Nope.”
“Zoo.”
“Not the zoo.”
“Skating?”
“I haven’t skated in years. I loved that. But still not my favorite part of the weekend.”
I drop it, hoping he’ll drop it.
Chris looks over at me, wags his eyebrows. Then he returns his eyes to the road.
“What are you posting?” he mercifully asks.
“Just putting a string of photos from this weekend into a carousel post.”
“Seriously, though, Ella Mae. Besides the harder parts of the weekend, I hope you had a good time. I’m grateful you came with me.”
“I am too.”
“There’s somewhere I’d like to take you next Wednesday.”
